


Silk

by This_is_your_Heichou_speaking



Series: Prurience [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Harry in Lingerie, Harry in Panties, Harry is 20 and Sirius is probably around 30 or smth, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sirius Black, but not too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking/pseuds/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking
Summary: Cheers for being so patient! I hope it's to your liking (｡・//ε//・｡)Unbetaed.





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedHorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/gifts).



> Cheers for being so patient! I hope it's to your liking (｡・//ε//・｡)
> 
> Unbetaed.

It was afternoon when his lectures finally ended. He was tired, expecting nothing more thank to go home and take a nap before dinner.  When he stepped out into the street he was surprised to see Sirius waiting for him, bent lazily over the handlebars of his black motorcycle with his helmet hanging from his fingers like a model for bikes or leather jackets. He looked so very beautiful, so incredibly attractive that it brought Harry up short, made him a little breathless.

Unbidden, his mind flashed to the package he'd received that morning - plain, unassuming brown wrapping paper taped tight over an equally boring cardboard box. What he'd discovered inside, however, had been anything _but_  dull. The box had been filled with all manner of smooth silk and soft cotton, fine lace in a multitude of colours and styles and shapes. He had explored them curiously, holding them up against himself as he looked into his bedroom mirror. Some were fairly modest, almost _chaste_  but the others - _oh_ , they barely left anything to the imagination at all, cut so low and short that Harry wondered if _anything_  would be covered.

Red stained his cheeks as his thoughts turned to the man who'd brought them for him, as he imagined Sirius shopping casually and thinking of Harry as he touched silk and lace, holding them up to picture Harry wearing them, buying them and thinking of fucking Harry in them. He thought of Sirius sending them with Harry on his mind and it made arousal burn in his stomach like a smouldering cigarette.

He wore some now, gossamer under cotton and wool, and as he walked with a smile to where his paramour waited and watched with hooded eyes. He wondered if it was visible somehow, if Sirius _knew_  somehow. The man didn't seem to. He greeted Harry like he did every other time, a strong arm around his waist pulling him close enough to kiss.

"Hello, sweetheart," he whispered against Harry's lips, like a secret between the two of them. Harry's fingers gripped at the leather of his jacket as he smiled back, pushing as close as he could without burning his leg on the heated exhaust pipe.

"Didn't expect to see you until tomorrow," he replied. And he hadn't, because Sirius was usually busy on Mondays and free to come see him on Tuesdays. Perhaps that's why he'd decided to try and wear something like lingerie today, to Uni of all places. Because he hadn't thought anyone would find out.

But Sirius grinned back and kissed him like he was a brand new delicacy he just couldn't stop tasting, and said, "I missed you," and Harry climbed onto the bike behind him with nary more than a nod of Sirius' head in question.

The ride back was quick. He pressed as close to Sirius as he could, his hands holding Sirius tighter than he need to. Both of them knew it. Harry had ridden on the back of Sirius' motorcycle so many times he could rest his hands, lax, on his own thighs and be just as comfortable. But there was something about pushing close to the warmth of another's body, something about being that close to another's heartbeat as warm air became cold wind and the streets rushed past like a smudged picture that felt like a separation. Like they were in their own little bubble of time, their own space, uninterrupted by anything else. Like all that mattered was the warm body in his arms and the loud hum of the machine between his legs.

Sirius smelled like cigarette smoke and engine grease - he always did, form the garage and because he just wouldn't stop smoking no matter how many times Harry told him it was bad for him.

"I'll die when I'm meant to die," his reply usually was, "and not a second earlier." And then he'd blow grey smoke into Harry's face and laugh at his scowl like he was about as threatening as a glaring kitten.

The journey didn't take long, and yet it seemed like a small eternity had gone by before they finally came to a stop at Sirius' place. It took him a second to convince his arms to loosen from around Sirius' waist, but then Sirius was looking at him - flushed cheeks and helmet hair - like he was some kind of _vision_ , nodding "go on in, darling, I'm right behind you," and Harry wondered if this was true love.

And then he told himself that it was ridiculous, that Sirius was surely not as deeply embroiled in affection for him as Harry would like to imagine. He was so much older, more mature - what could he possibly find in a 20 year old man-child that he couldn't in someone his own  age? And yet, as he reached the kitchen and set the table for dinner, he thought ' _I'm far too familiar with this_ ,' and wondered what their future might look like. The idea of losing this part of his life was abhorrent to him now.

They ate in relative silence, slow and tired after a long day. Sirius was a decent cook when he put his mind to it, and curry was perhaps one of his best dishes. They ate quickly and before Harry knew it, Sirius was rising to do the washing up, talking about how a mate of his had gotten into a spot of trouble. He paused, rinsing out a cup and putting it on the drying rack, and Harry said "you know, my friends think I have a boyfriend."

Sirius stilled a little, turning just enough to watch Harry pretend at naiveté from the corner of his eye. He didn't reply, but hummed questioningly. He too pretended at more ease than he really felt, Harry could tell from the stiffness of his back, but he didn't point it out. Instead, he merely nodded. "Yes," he said. Then added, "Hermione thinks it's something a little different."

Sirius put away the last cup to dry and turned as Harry stood from his chair and neared. "Oh?” Sirius said. "What _does_  she think?" There was a strange look on his face, like he wanted to say something but was wary of doing so. Like he knew what was coming but felt apprehensive of it.

Harry leant against the table casually, his hands braced against the edge. "She says that a _boyfriend_  wouldn't buy me expensive clothes and pay off my rent," he answered. "She says that  a boyfriend wouldn't take me to five star restaurants every other week or send me expensive chocolates whenever the opportunity arrives or pay off all my debts. She says-" he broke off, looking shrewdly at Sirius. The man didn't react, merely looked at him expectantly. Calmly. "She says you're my _sugar daddy_ ," he said finally .

Sirius looked at him, a strange hunger in his eyes. "And?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

" _Are_  you my sugar daddy?" he asked. He moved closer, his hands reaching to smooth Sirius' shirt over his chest and slide up, up over his shoulders. He cocked his head to the side and Sirius sighed fondly, reaching for him in turn.

"What if I am? Does it matter what you call me, darling, as long as we know what we mean?"

Harry stayed silent, playing with the neck of Sirius' t-shirt. ' _And what_  are _we?_ ', he wanted to ask. ' _How long will this last? For a year, until the end of uni, forever?_ ' Instead of saying any of that aloud, however, he let Sirius pull him closer by the hold on his body, and said, "I got a rather interesting package this morning."

His hands were warm and firm around Harry's waist, thumbs pressing into the dips at his hips until they felt oddly tingly - like he was ticklish, except not quite. Sirius pulled him closer, so slowly that Harry could think ' _oh, now I can see his every eyelash, and now the little wrinkles at his eyes_ ,' until eventually they were pressed so tightly together that he imagined he could feel Sirius' heart beating against his own chest.

He sighed a little, knowing his face had softened at the feel of Sirius' gentle touch and he couldn't even hide it. Couldn't even try.

Sirius smirked. He was so attractive, Harry thought, it honestly took his breath away how quickly he smiled, how easily he laughed, how his eyes sparkled with easy contentedness. It had taken him so long to get here, so long for the shadows to run out from under his bones and his skin. It had taken him so long to leave the past in the past. Harry pressed impossibly closer, his hands firm on Sirius' biceps as he leaned to mouth at his jaw. He laved his tongue slowly, wetly, against the soft place there, let himself feel the prickle of stubble against the sensitive organ.

"Did you," Sirius asked, his voice so low and deep it felt like it was rumbling through his own chest and _oh god_  he wanted Sirius between his legs so very _badly_. Wanted his weight, his warmth, the speed of his pulse against his tongue. His lover smiled against his hair and, without warning, pushed his hands down the back of Harry's jeans.

Immediately he froze, and something in Harry stilled impossibly as he realised what lay so closely against Sirius' hands, so softly against his own skin. He wondered if he'd done wrong, if it hadn't been meant for now. His back stiffened and he breathed in sharply, and then Sirius groaned so loudly, so _shamelessly_ , that Harry felt his eyes go wide with shock.

" _Harry_ ," Sirius groaned, his mouth suddenly so very hungry against his lips and his neck and his collarbone. Harry thought distantly that he'd have marks to hide tomorrow, but could focus on little else but the way Sirius gripped at his arse and _squeezed_ , the way he snapped the elastic at the very top of his left thigh. It stung despite the constraint of the jeans and Harry gasped into Sirius' ear, his fingers pushing into the hair at Sirius' nape.

"Sirius," he gasped, quietly and then louder, " _Sirius_!" The man groaned loudly in reply, busy sucking a hickey into the little dip beside Harry's Adam's apple, so he grasped at his hair and pulled him back, away, until he could see his flushed lips and lust-blown eyes. And Sirius was _handsome_  - perfectly shaped lips and straight teeth and heavy lidded eyes that seemed almost silver at times, and black at others. Sirius had perfect, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders and looked beautiful whether it was loose and wild or tied back into a ponytail. He walked with a confidence that was attractive all on it own and stood like a bloody model, and half the time Harry was convinced he did it on purpose. But when Sirius was like _this_  - hair mussed and mouth hungry for _Harry_ , lusty for _Harry_ , he seemed much more beautiful than anyone Harry had ever seen before. Harry loved Sirius best when he was lost and uncaring, his eyes on Harry and warmth in his eyes.

He leaned up, wrapping his arms around Sirius neck, and kisses his mouth softly. "Take me to bed," he whispered. His lover wasted no time in picking him up, Harry's legs around his waist, and obeying.

He stripped himself of his jeans and hoodie quickly, wasting no time as Sirius watched. Underneath he wore a soft white slip, delicate lace curling around his throat like a collar of vines. His legs were covered in long lace stockings, the tops of his thighs bared like a call to sin. He flushed pinker the longer Sirius watched him, letting himself turn a little  in show until the man touched his bare shoulder to still him, his eyes taking up and down the length of him greedily.

"You look beautiful, Harry," he said, and then immediately after, "let me _ruin_  you Harry."

He gasped soundlessly and opened his arms wide, and Sirius held his head in both of his hands to pull him into a kiss he couldn't escape from. A kiss he didn't _want_  to escape from.

His hands played with the straps at his shoulders, and then suddenly he flicked at Harry's nipple. " _Oh_ ," he murmured, and then moaned when Sirius did it again and again, twisting at them through the soft of his slip until they were sore and swollen, until every brush of fabric sent electricity down to his cock. Then he bowed his head, looking Harry in the eye, and licked.

His mouth soaked the fabric as his tongue played, his hands slipping underneath his panties to brush against his hole teasingly. "Legs apart love," he told Harry, tapping at his thigh to encourage him. Then he seemed to become impatient, or suddenly needy, because he dipped lower and hooked his index finger in the soft fabric to move it to the side.

"Oh god, _Sirius_ " Harry moaned, embarrassed, and tried to clasp at Sirius' hair to pull him back up. The man resisted, his eyes stuck on the pink of his hole.

"You're so _pretty_  here sweetheart," he told Harry, his other hand teasing the skin there softly. His lips moved to the small sliver of thigh between the tops of his stockings and the hem of the nightgown, mouthing at the skin greedily. He licked Harry there hungrily, biting at one then the other until they were red with the marks of his teeth and his stubble and Harry was near tears.

" _Fuck_  me already," he demanded, pulling at Sirius' hair. His lover had mercy on him and reached blindly over to his drawers for lube.

"Come on," Harry moaned, taking Sirius' mouth back in a kiss and thrusting his hips up a little. Sirius laughed as he slicked his fingers up and finally, slowly, pushed one finger in.

"Okay?" he asked, and at Harry's nod pushed in another, thrusting them in and out easily. When he'd stretched Harry well enough, Harry moved up enough to get at Sirius' trousers, unzipping him and pulling out his erection to hold in one hand.

His cock was long and pink and thick, flushed with blood and arousal and dripping at the top and Harry _wanted_  it, in his mouth, in his arse. Sirius asked him to turn onto his front, so he bent down onto the bed until his arse was up and on display.

Sirius was rough with his hands, squeezing and pulling and pushing. He snapped the elastic at the leg a few more time - this time harder, and the sting made Harry widen his legs for him. "Oh Harry," he laughed, low and husky with arousal. He pushed the fabric of his panties aside again, revealing Harry's pink, stretched hole to his eyes. "Did you want me to fuck you here, darling?"

"Yes, yes _please_ ," he gasped. "Oh Sirius," he moaned, and there was more cold lube on his arse and a finger, long and questing, teasing, playing with him.

"I'm _ready_ ," he hissed impatiently. Sirius smirked at his desperation and pushed his cock up between his butt and the soft cotton panties thrusting a little as it settled against Harry's skin. He pushed slowly, the tip of his cock dragging against the rim but never sliding in, the bastard laughing with his eyes the whole time as Harry flushed redder and redder with arousal.

"Sirius _please_ ," he whined, pushing up desperately, his legs spread wide. "Stop _teasing_  me!"

"You're gonna have to do a lot better than that darling," Sirius replied, groaning at the way Harry felt against his cock, the way his arse looked in such flimsy clothing. He wanted to soil Harry in them and soak them with his cum before fucking his lover, he wanted Harry to _cry_. His cock pushed up, higher, and then back down along the line of his cleft, brushing against Harry's hole just enough to make him _want_  it.

He wouldn't speed up. Harry's fingers twisted in the sheets and he bent up so frantically that his nightgown slid down to bare his back, his chest, all the way to his nipples. He reached for his own cock, but Sirius' hands were large and strong and held his wrists above his head effortlessly.

"What do you _want_ ," he gasped, overcome. His eyes burned with desperate tears. Sirius bent close, his chest pushing down against him until every part of his front was lined along Harry's back.

"I just want you to _cry_ ," he rasped, something so very dark and delicious in his voice. "I want you _desperate_ , darling." He pulled Harry's head back sharply, bending his neck until his full mouth was at Harry's ear. "Can you do that for me?"

And Harry's eyes were so wet, just like his skin was with sweat, like his cock was with precum, that all he had to do was _blink_  and the tears slid across his eyelids and soaked eyelashes to drip down his cheeks.

"Good _boy_ ," Sirius grinned, gripping Harry's butt to sink into him. His weight inside Harry, his shape and heat and _presence_  was like a brand, a permanent reminder saying _this is mine, I belong here_. His cock went deep on the first thrust, making Harry whine like he was hurting.

He wasn't. "Oh, oh," he grunted with every thrust, Sirius moving fast now, eager. He huffed in frustration as Harry slid further along the sheets with every push and, annoyed, pulled out to sit himself down.

"Work a little," he said, gesturing to his lap. Harry crawled closer on his hands and knees, moved his thighs to either side of Sirius' hips and sank down onto his cock again with a contented sigh. His panties were wet, soaked, and Harry wondered distantly if they'd ever recover from this. But Sirius' hands were warm on his damp skin, his cock heavy in Harry's arse, his stubble leaving red on his collarbone, and Harry wanted to come so badly he'd let Sirius ruin all of his brand new lingerie if he'd just fuck him _harder_.

His thighs trembled as he pushed himself up and down, revelling in the slick slide of Sirius' dick against his arse and his prostate. He clenched, hard, and Sirius groaned low and delicious in his ear, his fingers flexing on his hips like he wanted to slam him down onto his erection so hard Harry would never forget what it felt like to be fucked by him. But it was Harry's turn now, Harry's chance to tease Sirius, to bring him to the edge and keep him there due as long as he could stand to.

He leaned in close, yanking at Sirius' beautiful hair hard enough to make him hiss, and let his lips touch his neck.

His mouth played at kissing Sirius' skin, his teeth on the edge of biting skin but not quite, not _quite_. Their speed increased and with it Sirius' enthusiasm, his need, until eventually he decided Harry couldn't fuck hard enough like this and pushed him to lay on his back, never slipping out of him. He began to fuck Harry in earnest then, his hips moving fast as his attentions returned to Harry's legs, mouthing and biting at his knee and calf and thigh like he wanted to preserve them in his mind forever.

"Oh, oh, oh," Harry chanted with every thrust, the loud slap of skin against skin filling the room, the scent of sex heavy in his nose. He felt dizzy with pleasure, Sirius' cock rubbing against his insides just right, but-

"Touch me," he pleaded as the need to orgasm overwhelmed him. "Sirius, _please_." He pulled Sirius closer again, kissing him deep and hard, their mouths moving over one another's as Sirius reached to grasp Harry's cock. It only took a single stroke before he was coming, his semen covering his lover's hand and his own stomach. It took longer for Sirius to come, the man pushing into him even after he'd finished as he tried to reach his orgasm. It hurt in a strangely erotic way, his poor hole sore and overly sensitive, but Sirius didn't stop until he started whining.

But when it became too much he let himself slip out, still hard, and instead pushed his cock between Harry's thighs. "Let me," he gasped, aching. "Oh darling _let me_." So Harry pushed his legs together, his nightgown soiled and pushed up his chest, one stocking pushed down to his knees, and clenched his thighs tight around Sirius’ cock.

Sirius moved his legs up together and to the side against his shoulder and _pushed_ , just at the edge and reaching with single-minded ferocity. His cock was still slick with lube, pushing easily between the soft skin of Harry's thighs. He watched, almost hypnotised, as the head of his erection appeared and disappeared until eventually Sirius was coming all over him, his chest, his pretty white nightgown.

He pulled away from Harry's cum-soaked thighs and collapsed beside him, and when his breathing calmed he stripped Harry of all his lingerie and went to get him a washcloth. Harry way he'd him lazily, fondly as he wiped him clean and stroked idle fingers through his hair. "You've ruined them," he murmured, head bending in the vaguest of nods towards the silk on the floor beside the bed.

Sirius threw the cloth on top of the pile and lay down beside him, pulling him close to rest on his chest. "I'll buy you more," he replied, an indolent grin on his face. "In fact, next time you can come with me and choose whatever you want."

Harry laughed brightly, bare skin warmed by the golden afternoon sun. "Yes _daddy_ ," he teased, and pressed an affectionate kiss into Sirius’ naked chest.


End file.
